


Marginalia

by Argyle



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crawley the Serpent, Garden of Eden, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-22
Updated: 2008-06-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argyle/pseuds/Argyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people have no sense of boundaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marginalia

To begin with, the weather was wonderful. Fantastic. Superb. The sun was shining; the flowers were blooming. The sunflowers were tall and high-headed, each one a bastion of creativity, and every leaf and silver-backed stalk gleamed with realized potentiality.  
  
If all the hopes for all the holidays in all the world were rolled into a convenient sphere and dashed with the promise of a jolly new day, it would have been like this.  
  
Aziraphale let out a long-suffering sigh and swung himself round the top of the Gate.  
  
Much like the motorways through Cornwall that eventually would be, one couldn't choose one's company, and seeing as his company was presently comprised of wild animals, a certain nuptial couple, and the serpent (troublemakers all), it was only fitting that he should feel a trifle put-out.  
  
What's more, some people had no sense of boundaries.  
  
***  
  
 _Day Thirty-one_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Please stay on your side.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Thirty-two_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Funny, I really do own my view. It's in the job description. You having been here first has nothing to do with the degree of measurable propriety.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Thirty-three_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Those aren't even your initials.  
  
But about that job. D'you suppose the dress robe's a bit much? Or should I go for more of a native look? One never knows who's watching.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Thirty-four_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
As it turns out, I'm allergic to fig leaves.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Thirty-five_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
And sumac.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Thirty-six_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Don't be daft. The thrill of imminent triumph casts a flush quite similar to that of a good scratching. Spreads quite the same as well.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Thirty-seven_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Well, at least the swelling's gone down.  
  
And she haggled a bit. No place to plug the toaster, but it's the thought that counts.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Thirty-eight_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Do I detect a guilty conscience? There's a difference between a victory parade and a disappearing act.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Thirty-nine_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
I was worried because if you're nowhere to be found, you must be getting into trouble, and besides, I wasn't worried. I've enough to sort out on my own.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
  
 _Day Forty-two_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
You needn't bother. I'm perfectly capable of preparing my own breakfast without the aid of running commentary.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
P.S. The cranberries were delicious.  
  
  
 _Day Forty-two Point Three_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Because I've been doing it for years.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
P.S. Yes, the pears too.  
  
  
 _Day Forty-two Point Four_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Because I'm not supposed to talk to you. If it's frustrating for certain parties to communicate via scroll, all the better.  
  
Rdgs,  
Aziraphale  
  
P.S. And the satsumas.  
  
  
 _Day Forty-two Point Eight_  
  
It isn't a charade: one can't simply shirk the myriad wonders of bureaucracy, and whatever you may have heard, trained doves aren't easy to come by.  
  
Rdgs,  
Aziraphale  
  
P.S. The doves are not for eating.  
  
  
 _Day Forty-two Point Eight Eight One_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Now, that's hardly my doing, is it? Hands are a privilege, not a right.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale  
  
P.S. And I can't help it if your imagination doesn't go past chicken.  
  
  
 _Day Forty-three_  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
Needs salt.  
  
Rgds,  
Aziraphale


End file.
